Table of Contents
Official Announcement
Making of An Eye for Magic by Jaz Laverick
Free Sneak Peek
Hey, fantasy-lovers! RCN Media is delighted to announce the release of Jaz Laverick’s debut novel, An Eye for Magic, the first installment in the exciting new Abigail Tally series.
Follow Abigail on her journey to the Mages Guild, where she hopes to finally discover the truth behind the spirits she’s been seeing most of her life. After countless other mages have struggled and failed to unlock her secrets, Guild Master Ulrik and his common guild are her last chance at finding the answers she’s so desperately sought. Have these spirits been figments of her imagination all along? Is there a curse or spell placed upon Abigail? Or does a rare and powerful magic dwell within her? What she learns will change her life forever.
Victoria author Jaz Laverick, who was raised in a town called Shirley on an island in the Pacific, now lives in Victoria, B.C., where she wrote An Eye for Magic. The back pages of the book also include some of Jaz’s beautiful songs, so lovers of music will find an extra treat there.
An Eye for Magic is not only an exciting coming-of-age tale fraught with mystery and suspense, but a story that will resonate with anyone who has felt isolated, unsure of themselves, or that they perhaps didn’t belong. The dynamic cast of characters will intrigue readers and keep them wanting more from start to finish. We are so excited for you to get your hands on a copy, and we’re certain you’ll love Abigail Tally as much as we do.
For more information about the book and its author, and to reserve your ticket for An Eye for Magic’s virtual book launch, visit https://www.rcn.media/jaz-laverick.
The Making of An Eye for Magic
Hello, everyone, my name is Jaz Laverick, author of An Eye for Magic, and I'd like to tell you how the Abigail Tally series began…
Once upon a time, I had a terrible, horrible, dreadful thing happen: My laptop died a perma-death, and with it went every novel I had ever written.
I spent my teenage years writing nine very teenage books, the cringe-worthy, grammar-less, lawless first writings of my Young Adult attempts. They were full of magical elves in space and evil stepmothers shunting princesses through transformational portals into forbidden realms wrought with war and handsome, damsel-saving princes.
In all that time, I had a standard writing style — plan every second of the entire book and then write it…
… until my laptop died.
I was distraught. I was overwhelmed by sorrow and loss and grief. At that point, I'd written the makeup of four new stories, and I was 57000 words in — writing the climax, actually — to my latest novel in a brand new series.
So what did I do? I had a good cry, and then I sat down and wrote Abigail Tally's book.
I didn't plan. I didn't journal every chapter and what needed to happen — I just wrote. It was some kind of magical. It was like I was reading Abigail's story instead of writing it.
At one point, my husband asked me, "So, who's the murderer?" To which I replied, "I have no idea, they haven't figured it out yet!"
And that is how Abigail Tally came to be written.
I won't say I never had bad days, but I managed my writer's block in a fun way that kept me engaged every day.
I'd start by writing in the Google doc (and yes, I learned my lesson and switched everything to the cloud). If I got distracted, I'd hand-draw maps of the kingdom and write out the local history. I'm about 350 years in! Then, if that didn't call to me, I'd pick a place on the map and use the history to write out songs and stories popular to that location. I'm up to 28 finished songs! And last but not least, if story nor history nor maps nor songs could inspire me, I'd doodle the characters and draw a webcomic adaptation for the novel.
Abigail was a delight to write. She was everything I am not — shy, nervous, with a stutter and oppressive relations. For all her quirks, I was proud to bring to life such a strong and sassy and curious and brave young woman. Watching her face her fears and find herself brought me to tears, and I happily shared the book and music with friends.
That's actually how I became traditionally published.
Someone heard one of my songs and reached out to me looking for lyrics and a recording. When I told them about Abigail Tally, they simply had to read the book — and they loved her as much as I did! Unbeknownst to me, this person actually worked as an audiobook voice actress for RCN Media and insisted I submit my book to the publisher.
Ever since, it's been a whirlwind adventure.
From cover art, to editing, to beta readers, to reviewers — every step kept me on my toes! I won't say I spent over EIGHTEEN HOURS editing one six-page chapter… but I will say my family and friends kept me from overdosing on caffeinated tea and comfort food because of a dreaded six-page chapter that shall not be named.
Now we are just around the corner from An Eye for Magic hitting the shelves, and I can't wait. I've a pile of pre-orders to sign, and an audiobook to record, and more books to write… and one Truth that's true for both Abigail and for me:
The adventure has only just begun.
Book your spot at the Online Book Launch
(tickets are free)
Sneak Peek at the book
Prologue: The Mage
THE NIGHT WAS dark and damp and unpleasantly warm. No moon — streetlamps barely lit the cobblestones, making it easier for the two men shadowing their target.
Why anyone would walk down a dark alleyway on a moonless night is up for question, especially this particular individual. He had a habit of insulting many and often, and often many more dangerous than he.
When their mark was far enough away from the main thoroughfare, they jumped him. One held him, and one stabbed him. When they were absolutely sure he was dead, they dumped his body in the gutter.
The assailant cleaning his knife took a second to spit on the body.
“Filthy wizard,” he scoffed. “Won’t go questioning my business again.”
The two men walked back towards the Lind District where the guards lay in wait to catch them at the Feran’s Arm Inn.
A few minutes later, the man in the gutter moaned. He picked himself up and peeked under his cloak. Beneath his blood-stained clothes, there wasn’t a scratch on him. As he stumbled off towards the Mages Guild, he cursed.
“Kass’t, that was my best tunic.”
Prologue: The Apprentice
“I AM DISAPPOINTED in you, Abigail.” Duke Julian of Tullents looked down on his niece. ”I’ve been informed you missed your appointment with Master Clark?”
Abigail’s green eyes stared at the desk between them, one of her light brown braids slipping down beside her face. After a short pause, she stuttered, “Y-yes, Uncle.”
She hated being tested. Every day, without fail, she failed. Abigail was beyond tired of the whole affair.
One day, she couldn’t handle it anymore. Instead of going, diligent, to her daily suffering, she found herself ducking into a storage closet under the west wing servants’ stairs.
From that day onward, whenever she reached her wits’ end, she would slip away.
Recently, this once-in-a-while habit turned into a thrice-weekly affair.
“It has only been a few months since Master Clark joined us from the Capital.” Duke Julian rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Surely you could try to take this seriously.”
Six months were more than just ‘a few’. “Uncle, it’s no use! I can’t —”
“Silence.”
Abigail bit her tongue.
Her uncle tapped on his big oak desk. Never a good sign. They were in his study, where he always summoned her when she was in trouble. Abigail rubbed the backs of her hands nervously.
But the Duke surprised her. “Since we have tried all the usual methods, I’ve considered a new approach.”
Her uncle picked up a letter and handed it to her. “This is addressed to Guild Master Ulrik. I’m sending you to the city guild for their summer initiation test.”
“The Mages Guild?” Abigail took the papers.
“Yes,” Duke Julian said, “and this is your last chance, Abigail.”
Abigail murmured, “Yes, Uncle.”
“And I expect you to go apologise to Master Clark,” he said firmly. “You are dismissed.”
Chapter 1
Why are you here, Abigail?
Fairfield District, Tullents City
Waterday, Seventh Month, the year of King Bastian 347
ABIGAIL TALLY WATCHED as the carriage door swung open and no hands reached in to help her down; they never did.
She quietly gathered her belongings: a beige clasp suitcase filled with travel dresses, a red woollen cloak with gold trim, and a letter. Steeling herself, she touched the small locket hidden under her dress and jumped down.
The afternoon sun was shocking after the tenebrous carriage, so bright it took Abigail’s eyes a moment to adjust. Her uncle’s men were waiting at attention. Sir Simon, a younger knight, stood as far from her as he could while still being polite, and Sir Warrick, the knight commander, looked her over and grimaced. “This way, Lady Abigail.”
The Tullents City Mages Guild was nestled in the heart of Fairfield. It was surrounded by a five-foot-tall stone wall, about head height for the 13-year-old, and the entrance lay just ahead. Abigail nodded, and they walked up a short cobblestone path that led to the guild’s front doors. The front lawn was well kept, and Abigail noticed movement from a garden akras lazing under the shade of a tree. The elemental creatures were palm sized and looked like little men with bushy beards. They were prone to wearing vests. Akras loved turnips and only lived close to well-tended gardens.
The guild’s solid oak doors curved upward and peaked together at the top. Sir Warrick opened one undramatically.
This was Abigail’s last hope, really. It was either the Mages Guild or the convent, and anything sounded better than Lady Gertrude’s Convent for Troubled Girls.
Mustering her courage, Abigail raised her head a little higher and walked in.
An open dining area took up most of the guild hall, with a long-countered bar along the back wall. A second-floor balcony encircled the upper floor chamber, and eirlings played in the rafters. An embodiment of the breeze, the little elemental spirits were wispy and blue, and each had unique insect-like wings to tell them apart.
As Abigail looked around the hall, an attractive yet strange-looking man stood up to greet them. “Welcome to the Mages Guild.” He cupped both hands in front of his chest and bowed low. “My name is Master Eian Loom. How can I be of service to the duke’s household today?”
Abigail thought Master Eian looked strange because he was the colour of sun-touched sand with cropped white hair and no eyebrows. His striking green eyes smiled at her, and he spoke with a slight accent — probably Parnish. He wore a high, collared vest in the southern country’s style, and he had a ruby earring in his left lobe. Subtle threads of lime-green light ran from the jewel and clung around his ear in a glowing gossamer web.
Sir Warrick announced, “Duke Julian Tully presents his niece, Lady Abigail Tally, to see Master Ulrik. His Grace wishes to test his niece with the commoner guild.” His voice dripped disdain, for Abigail or the city guild, she didn’t know. Probably both.
“It’s fine, Eian.” A pale, thin man with dark brown eyes and raven-black hair walked up from the back of the hall. He had thick and wide high eyebrows and straight bangs that framed his deadpan face. With little emotion, the man stated, “Master Ulrik has sent me to receive them.”
“Ah, yes,” Master Eian said, smiling. “I will leave you in Master York’s good hands, then.”
Master York nodded at Master Eian, nodded at Sir Warrick, then turned to Abigail and bowed low. Without another word, he politely took Abigail’s suitcase and led them through a door at the back of the hall to a grand spiral staircase. Abigail fidgeted with her free hands and followed him upstairs.
To her surprise, the stair let out onto the roof and across a railed walkway to another door. Abigail looked out over the city and saw Old Man Tullents close by. He was as tall as the tallest tower in Tullents Castle, if you included his hat. The great city spirit always noticed her immediately. He smiled and waved, and she smiled back but didn’t want to call attention to herself by returning the greeting.
After a brisk knock at the door, Master York let them into an office. Guild Master Hansen Ulrik sat behind a desk with his hands folded on top of some paperwork. He wore half-spectacles on his overly large nose and kept his shoulder-length salt and pepper hair loose and swept back. His eyes were a striking copper and his skin a rich bronze bordering black. His long grey robes favoured comfort over style, his only impressive feature being a mantle that draped over his shoulders and gave off a faint purple shimmer.
The knight commander began, “Master Ulrik —”
“Sir Warrick,” the guild master cut him off, looking down his spectacles at her escort. “His Grace wrote me you’d be coming. Now that you’ve delivered Lady Abigail, you may leave. Tell His Grace we will conduct the test first thing tomorrow. York, please show out the knight commander.”
Sir Warrick sputtered, taken aback that someone dared to interrupt him. She thought he was going to rebuke the guild master, but instead the knight commander stole a glance at Abigail. He smirked. “Fine, then. His Grace is busy with the upcoming anniversary ball, so I’m sure no one will miss her.” He left without another word.
Probably happy to be rid of me, Abigail thought.
“Shall we, Lady Abigail?” Master Ulrik stood up and invited her into a cozy receiving room with a matching cushioned couch and chair around a short table.
“Thank you, Master Ulrik. This is f-for you, from my uncle.” Abigail handed over the letter, and he waved her to take a seat on the couch. She saw some eirlings flitting in from the open window. One of the wind creatures flew over to Abigail and sat on her left shoulder, its little hands grabbing onto a pigtail so as not to drift away.
She tried not to react when one of them pushed the letter onto the floor. They especially liked the guild master, teasing his shirt sleeves.
Master Ulrik paid them no mind and brought over a pitcher of water and two glasses. He closed the window and retrieved the letter before taking a seat across from her. Without the draft, the eirlings had to use their own power to move. They settled down instead. One remained cuddling Abigail’s pigtail, and one hugged Master Ulrik’s chair arm. Three others floated close to the window ledge, ready to escape or ride the breeze when it opened again.
“Duke Julian has written quite a bit about you, Lady Abigail,” Master Ulrik said, pouring each of them a cup of water. “I imagine you’ve had a hard time until now.”
Abigail looked down at her glass and took a sip while trying to organise her thoughts. She couldn’t know what her uncle told the guild master, but she could guess. Haunted, crazyand possessed were strong words, so probably different, troubled and strange.
Ever since Abigail could remember, all people talked about was how strange she was.
“Master Ulrik, I’m s-sure my uncle has t-told you why I’m here...”
Master Ulrik leaned forward. “I’d rather know why you think you are here, Lady Abigail.”
This was so awkward. Abigail gave up trying to find a polite way to explain it. She couldn’t keep her frustration hidden as she announced, “Because I s-see things, Master Ulrik, things that aren’t there.”
Chapter 2
What do you see, Abigail?
Fairfield District, Tullents City
Waterday, Seventh Month, the year of King Bastian 347
MASTER ULRIK LEANED forward in his chair. Gently, he asked, “You see things? Like what?”
“W-well...” Abigail glanced at the eirling sitting on Master Ulrik’s chair arm then looked quickly away. The spirit noticed her attention and pointed at her happily. It made a squeeing noise and floated towards her. A bead of sweat ran down her neck. “I s-see creatures that no one else can. Most of the t-time they look like spirits, or animals, or strange items — but sometimes I meet people too.”
The eirling flitted about in front of Abigail’s face. She desperately focused on Master Ulrik and didn’t acknowledge it again. After a second, it shrugged and moved to her right shoulder, grabbing hold of her free braid. She relaxed.
“Go on,” Master Ulrik urged. “What do these creatures look like? Do you see them all the time?”
Abigail took another drink of water and set her glass on the table. “I do. There are some in here now… little blue ones that d-drift on the wind. They’re called eirlings.”
Master Ulrik lifted an eyebrow but didn’t ask where the name came from. Abigail stammered, “They usually come through w-windows and like to play. Last week I got in trouble because I wasn’t c-careful, and they knocked over a vase in my uncle’s study. I d-didn’t ask them to! They just get excited when they f-find out I can see them.”
The creature on her right shoulder was listening carefully. When she said eirling, its head picked up, and it began to dance and wave. She ignored it.
“And that’s not all,” Abigail sighed. “S-sometimes I have more trouble n-not being able to see things!” She knew it didn’t make sense, but she tried to explain anyway. “Sometimes I’ll m-meet people, and everyone will say that person has blue eyes, but I see green! I-It’s like I’m meeting an entirely d-different person. And I c-can’t see what everyone else is seeing, no matter how hard I try. Sometimes things, and people, give off a strange glow, and I c-can’t help but notice. Your mantle is glowing purple! Everyone says I’m c-crazy, and the reason my uncle sent me here is just to rub it in.” Abigail realised she’d been rambling and bit her lip. Her hands were shaking, and she clenched them in her skirts.
“Do you know what I think?” Master Ulrik stroked his beard. “I think that your uncle worries about you, and he doesn’t want to give up hope. That’s why he didn’t just listen to everyone when they called you crazy. Instead, he’s trying every means possible to find a way to understand what you’re going through.”
Abigail rejected the idea immediately. Her uncle already threatened to send her to a convent, and he refused to hear her explanations about any of the things she saw. He sent her to her room or punished her for things she had no control over. She was about to say as much when Master Ulrik remarked, “In fact, it’s a good thing he sent you here. I can think of any number of reasons for your strange sight.”
“You can?” Abigail leaned forward quickly, jostling the eirlings off her shoulders. Both made unhappy noises and fled to the windowsill.
“Of course. There are a lot of reasons for someone to see things that aren’t there. There are spells, curses, or hexes that could be cast on you, or even by you, unknowingly. Especially when you’re young and have no control over your magic.”
Abigail shook her head. “The university and court mages have already checked, Master Ulrik. They s-say I have no talent for magic. I c-can’t light a fire to save my life, or change into anything, or pass any of the usual tests.”
Master Ulrik waited for her to finish. “Aside from curses, there is another reason why you might see these things…”
Abigail looked at Master Ulrik expectantly, and he smiled. “They could be real.”
